


Palpable Pleasure

by Jakathine (orphan_account)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Bloodplay, M/M, Vamplock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 01:25:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Jakathine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Fic prompt by Sherllamalock:<br/>((Vamp!lock)) Sherlock is thirsty and needs blood, but they've run out and Molly can't get him any until morning, so John, though fearful, offers his blood and trusts Sherlock to stop before he kills him.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Palpable Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> Fic prompt by Sherllamalock:  
> ((Vamp!lock)) Sherlock is thirsty and needs blood, but they've run out and Molly can't get him any until morning, so John, though fearful, offers his blood and trusts Sherlock to stop before he kills him.

Sherlock's throat was itchy and burning. He chided himself on holding out for so long on feeding, a habit which has seemingly increased and he increasingly hated. During a rather adrenaline-fueled chase to catch a perpetrator he had entirely forgotten to slip by the medical examiner's office before heading to Baker Street.

He twiddled his phone idly in his hands as he lay on the couch, mind racing on what he was to do. Molly had told him that she would be able to get him blood from drained bodies but since it was well after 1am there would be no chance of his entering there. At first Sherlock's edginess was ignored by John, who thought that Sherlock was trying to abate the high they had just experienced with all the running.

When Sherlock reached up towards the ceiling languidly, as though a cat stretching his claws, while opening his mouth in a gaping sigh to reveal the edges of his fangs did it dawn on John that Sherlock had yet to feed. He counted silently that it had actually been a few days.

Cautiously he approached Sherlock and sat on the coffee table, his leg barely brushing against where Sherlock had flopped down his arms lazily.

"Sherlock." John said, trying to get Sherlock's attention.

"Hm?" Sherlock asked, rolling onto his side to face John.

"When was the last time you fed?" with a gentle touch John ran a finger over Sherlock's splayed hand.

Sherlock grimaced and turned again to lay on his back, "A few days. I will be fine. Molly arrives at the morgue at 7am today so I'll be able to hold off until then."

John licked his lips nervously before venturing to say, "You know...if you ever need...sustenance..I would be willing to help you."

This caused Sherlock to bolt upright, eyes wide and tinged with appeared to be horror, "I would never! You have no idea how hard it would be to control myself if I were to feed off an actual human."

John straightened his shoulders, "But you need it badly. You're getting extremely sickly looking and your fangs only appear when you're about to feed or need it immensely."

Sherlock closed his mouth, using a fang that had annoyingly poked out over his lower lip to nibble at the edge while he thought.

With a tilt of his head, John leaned forward so that he was directly in front of Sherlock's face, their noses a few mere inches apart  "I trust you."

With a gulp and glance at the vein of John's neck, Sherlock, fraught with indecision, met John's unwavering gaze, "Are you sure?"

John nodded and sat on the table again, pulling off his jumper and lowering the collar of his shirt away from the nape of his neck, "Do it lower here that way I can cover it easily with my collar or jumper."

Sherlock was inwardly nervous but with more confidence than he felt he drew John to sit in his lap, much to John's surprise, before lowering his mouth to the warm sensitive skin. He gave the surface a few tentative licks to prepare the area before carefully sinking his fangs into John. John shuddered but then stilled when the small dosage of natural anesthetics dribbled into his system. 

With a soft moan, John relaxed into Sherlock's lap, his legs on either side of the taller man unnecessarily drawn closer as Sherlock lapped and sucked at the nape of his neck. Suddenly Sherlock became greedier, latching his fangs deeply into John's neck. John gasped at the sharp, but not necessarily unpleasant, waves of pleasure coursing through him and inevitably sent thrills to his cock.

John was astonished at himself. Here he was, playing dinner for his best friend and flatmate, and getting a hard-on. The whole scenario was odd as it were but this just seemed to make it all the more dangerous for Sherlock could positively taste as well as smell the arousal that John was sporting. With a viscous tug, Sherlock threw John onto the couch and clamored atop him before continuing sucking at the puncture wounds on John's lower neck. John's face went red with the sight of Sherlock looming over him but felt too sluggish to attempt to go anywhere. Sherlock withdrew and ran his right hand over the bitemarks, drawing away a hand glistening with blood before using the other to rip open John's shirt and press the bloodied hand to John's chest to make a perfect handprint.

Confused, John sat up to inspect what Sherlock had done but Sherlock touched his forehead with a bloodied finger, leaving behind a red dot while placing him back down onto his back. Sherlock then ran his fingers through the blood print on John's stomach while simultaneously crashing his lips against John's, accidentally cutting John's lip with his still protruding fangs.

As sudden as Sherlock had descended he jolted back and away from John, who lay dazed against the couch for a moment before sitting up.

"What's wrong?" John slurred, affixing Sherlock with a teasing smile.

"I....I was going too far." Sherlock muttered, receding to his chair, abashed at his actions.

John stood, steadied himself, then walked over to Sherlock before purposefully plopping down in the man's lap, "What if I said I want you to keep going?" 

Sherlock stared at John, surprised that he was being so open, "Would you..want to? I'm not going to use vampiric hypnosis on you to make you say yes."

John ground his erection into Sherlock's thigh in reply and smiled wide, "Oh, yes."

Sherlock smiled so wide his fangs flashed once more. He then picked John up in his arms as if he were light as a feather and carried him into his bedroom before shutting the door securely to ensure that he and John would not have any interruptions.


End file.
